the Swan Song
by shin'ai
Summary: [shounen-ai, DarkKrad] The curse has been broken, so what is their purpose now?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Er.. yeah. first fic ever written. Don't kill me, please.Oo; Originally meant as a one-shotsongfic, evolved into this. Kinda based on 'the Swan Song' by Within Temptation, butit isn'ta real songfic.  
**Warning:** hints of shounen ai, more in later chapters. Don't like, don't read. I don't mind criticism, as long as it isn't just because you hate boy x boy pairings. Flames will be laughed at.  
**Disclaimer**: D.N.Angel does not belong to me, it belongs to that one guy. You know, the one with the hair.

* * *

He stood at the open window, breathing in the fresh clean air. Winter was early, this year, and his breath left small clouds in the air. Violet eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time in several days, Dark relaxed slightly.  
The last few days had been stressfull, to say the least. 

_The curse had been broken._

He did not know how, he did not know why, he did not know _who_; all he knew was that one night after a succesfull theft, he went to bed, gave the body back to it's rightfull owner, and then... darkness.

_He did not like the darkness._

When next he woke up, he was lying next to his host... well, former host.  
He was free. And he did not understand.

When Daisuke had woken up enough to understand the situation, he immediately fretted over "Satoshi-kun"... what if the same had happened to him? That blonde homicidal maniac had no qualms of killing the ones that no longer served his purpose. The Niwa-boy practically dragged his former curse away, the redhead flying with Wizu and Dark on his own wings.

_poor Dai-chan, so blind of the obvious_

They arrived just in time to see Krad fly away.  
Daisuke sped inside, but Satoshi was fine. He had managed to send the angel away with some of his own magic. That, however, did not discourage Daisuke to fuss all over the other boy. Not that he minded, of course.

_Dark remained outside, watching the light fade_

He shook his head, pulling himself out of the flashback.  
Ever since that night, Krad had been even more obsessed about killing him. It stung him, and he had a good idea why.  
Dark did not see his point; the curse was broken. They were mortal now. Granted, mortals with special abilities, but mortal nonetheless.

_not a curse anymore_

It used to be all he lived for, stealing. But now... it was pointless. He was no longer the Niwa curse; he was just Dark.  
What was he living for, now?

_nothing binding him here_

He thought of his life, the many adventures... and of course; the many girls.  
But he would not live for them.  
He thought of the Niwa family. Warm, welcoming, a tight pack... where he no longer had a place.  
He would not live for them.  
He thought of his profession. But what was the use?  
He would not live for that.  
He thought of his enemy. Would he live for backstabs and pain and cruelty and tears and...dreams, of light and warmth?  
He could not live for that.

He spread his wings, and soared out into the night.

Flying over the city, he thought of his nemesis once more. It was not a very unusual track of mind; in fact, it was that same golden eyed angel that occupied his thoughts most of the time. And he knew why.

_He had known why for centuries._

Shards of times past flashed before his eyes. Fights, traps, the thrill of getting away, girls, girls, girls, i> Krad /i> ...  
He could dream of soft words, sweet touches, his name spoken in a kind fashion, his own personal light...

But that was all it was. A dream. A fantasy. Whisps of smoke...

_He could not live for that._

He looked up, finding himself already soaring past the cliffs. That was the second time this night that his thoughts had drifted out of control. He chuckled.

Well, it was not to be helped.  
It was clear to him now; he had no more purpose here.  
A sudden calm came over him, like the clear pool before the waterfall. He felt all the pain, the longing, the sadness drift away. It didn't matter anymore.  
He flew a few loops, enjoying the freedom for a while, loving the feel of wind rushing through his hair and feathers. It was almost like... no. No more drifting off; he had no more use for that.  
He flew higher, higher, higher, until the city looked like a maquette, or a childs toy. The streetlights twinkled brightly, almost inviting.  
He really hoped all those stories about heaven and angels were true; he'd like to have white wings for a change.  
He smiled to himself, softly. So... this is how the great kaitou thief dies. How ironic.

Then he let himself fall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: **Well, whaddaya know. I'm actually working on this again… to be honest, I had privately abandoned it.  
Not only because I lost all my notes, but also because I'm totally off the DNAngel fandom now and my writingstyle has... changed.  
Well, here goes nothing...  
**Warning:** hints of shounen ai, more in later chapters. Don't like, don't read. I don't mind criticism, as long as it isn't just because you hate boy x boy pairings. Flames will be laughed at.  
**Disclaimer:** D.N.Angel does not belong to me, it belongs to that one guy. You know, the one with the hair.

Chapter two

Krad was standing in the old bell tower, looking upwards to the stars.  
The weather was cold, but it did not bother him much. He felt little, these days.  
Scanning the air for glimpses of a certain thief, he sighed.  
Of course he wouldn't be there. That guy was never there when you needed him.

_He had not expected him to be in the first place_.

Irritated, he spread his wings and took to the sky.  
If he would not come to Krad, Krad would go to him.

Rising to just below the clouds, he took a deep breath. The feel of air in his lungs was still alien to him; before, it had always been a second-hand sensation, but now it was as if he'd been reborn, rebuilt. When first he felt it, he almost fell over. In fact, he was so suprised by it that he let himself be chased off by his former vessel out of sheer puzzlement.  
It had been a couple of days since he was finally freed, and he still couldn't really believe it.

Surely it must have been a fluke.  
Surely, it could not have been truly over. Surely, this was all a wild dream again, one of the kind that he would wake up from, panting and cursing, as soon as he began to believe it.

_It couldn't be real. Not for him_.

It couldn't be that his purpose was gone. It couldn't be, that he could no longer chase his other half.

It _couldn't_.

All this new development meant was that he could finally chase Dark without being interupted by that pesky brat.  
And that was what he did; He redoubled his efforts to catch – not kill, never kill - Dark.

_For what else did he have left?_

When he had first woken up, disoriented and confused, lying next to his passed-out vessel, he had dared to hope. For one split second, he had allowed himself to live the dream. One moment, one breath was all he allowed himself to feel of the mind-boggling freedom this dream implied. For one moment, he could believe he was not bound by his duty anymore, for one moment, hehad beentruly free.

_But one moment was all it took to get addicted_

And now he was stuck, not knowing when it would all begin again, not knowing when he would be forced back in his cage, not knowing when the insanity would take over again and all his ratial thought would be strapped back in chains.  
So with all the will he had left, he kept on the charade.  
So at the very least, he would still be able to see him.

_See him, touch him, hurt him, but never, ever have him_.

That was his way, that was how it had always been. In the small part of his mind that was not consumed by the rage, the madness of the Duty, he had always watched him. He had always dreamt, of whatever might be but could not. He had always...

_He had always felt_.

Now that he was free, he dared not grab it for fear it would turn out to be another mirage, created by his mind in a desperate effort to keep the madness at bay.  
If he was truly no longer bound, if he truly could follow his own wishes... would he dare to?

_Did he dare to?_

Shaking himself from the introspective daze he had landed in, he once again searched the skies for any sign of the dark-haired thief.  
So he could spar with him, so he could touch him, so he could, for one moment at the very least, _feel_...

It truly was a lovely night. The streets were white with snow, and all the lights gave it an almost magical look. It looked like the kind of night where one wishes on a shooting star, and the wish _actually comes true.  
_On a whim, he looked up.

His breath, unused to it as he was,hitched.

There, high above the cliffs but rapidly falling, wings loosely trailing behind him, eyes closed, was Dark.

_His heart stopped_.


End file.
